


Origin 3

by anemptymargin



Series: Journey-Verse [3]
Category: Psych
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry feels out the situation with Carlton and pushes it into more serious territory. Juliet, Shawn, and Gus are starting to suspect Lassiter has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origin 3

**Author's Note:**

> Last of the “Origin” pieces in preparation for my impending JourneyFic. Again, thanks go to Missy and Becca for my first read and handholding.

For a week, they barely spoke – and when they did it was all work. Then Saturday afternoon rolled around again and Henry dropped him a simple enough text.

 

 **H. Spencer**

 _Beer after you’re off shift?_

 

That was it. Split a pitcher, talk shop or fishing or whatever. Dinner. Bedroom. Once a week became twice, and sometimes they didn’t even make it to bed and it didn’t matter.

 

After four months of open friendship, Henry was the first to state the obvious. “You realize we’re dating, don’t you?” They were at Henry’s, listening to a baseball game on the radio while a fine pair of ribeyes were under his tending on the grill.

 

“What?” Carlton looked up from his beer with a puzzled expression. “I don’t… do dating. It’s uncomfortable and usually ends with another woman that won’t talk to me.”

 

“I’m just saying that we’re sleeping together pretty regularly.” He chuckled, still not even entirely comfortable with that fact. “We are spending a lot of time together… not that I’m complaining…”

 

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Friendship that just happens to include orgasms.”

 

“That kind of sounds like people that are in a relationship.” He flipped the steaks and slung himself into a lawn chair identical to the one Carlton sat in.

 

“Are you asking me to be your…” He visibly shuddered; “…boyfriend?”

 

“I hate that word.” Henry grimaced, taking a long swig off the longneck bottle. “More like ‘companion’ – more than friends, but not exactly rushing out to pick china.”

 

Carlton sighed, grunted, and steadfastly refused to respond.

 

“What, so that’s a ‘no’ then?”

 

“I never said that.”

 

“Yeah, you said nothing at all. I’m not gonna assume this is an actual relationship based on you being silent.”

 

Another grunt and then; “I don’t know what you want me to say, Henry. I’m straight.”

 

Henry choked on his beer. “You want to rephrase that, maybe taking into consideration that only a few days ago you were doubled over the arm of the couch getting pounded?”

 

“So we have sex, really good sex… I might add. It doesn’t mean we’re a couple.” He replied innocently, “I don’t date men.”

 

“Well, maybe we’re past dating and into couple-hood. It has been a few good months.”

 

“Drop it, Henry. If you’re looking for romantic attachment you should know better.”

 

He did know better. He also knew that Carlton held him when they slept together and liked to call him ‘Papa Bear’ – which was decidedly not friend-like nor about the sex. “Fine. Whatever you say.” He responded coldly, taking up the steaks.

 

***

 

It was another month of the same before Henry brought it up again; a bit more boldly than before. They were in Carlton’s bed, hungry mouths kissing shoulders with Carlton lying on top of him, grinding much more expertly than five months before. There was no hesitation and very clear purpose to the gentle thrusts against each other.

 

“Carlton.” Henry panted, feeling the warm wetness of the other man’s impending orgasm. “I… I want you to do something.” He’d been thinking about it for several weeks, always buckling ultimately and falling to their same patterns. They’d slowly learned each other’s bodies over the months, fumbling through something as simple as a blow job until they figured out how to make it work. Rubbing, kissing, it was all very nice… but sometimes Henry knew Carlton wanted him to take him – fuck him until they were both spent – and he’d been more than happy to oblige. Recently, he’d realized that wasn’t all he wanted physically… but apparently the bedroom was one of the few places Carlton Lassiter had an ounce of tact.

 

“Anything.” Carlton shuddered, dangerously close to coming against the rounded underside Henry’s belly. He gave another gentle push, Henry’s cock stroking against him with each thrust.

 

Henry raked his blunt fingernails up Carlton’s back, pushing down at his shoulders to get his attention. “Stop. Look at me.”

 

He let out a thin whine, but stopped his gentle rhythm as asked. “I’m so… close…”

 

“I know.” Henry smiled, licking his lips. “There’s something we haven’t done yet that I know you want to do.”

 

“Henry, don’t… let’s just… this is good…”

 

“I trust you, Carlton.” He continued, looking him in the eyes. “And I… I love you.”

 

“Please… not right now.” Carlton whined again, “We can talk in like… five, maybe ten minutes.”

 

“I want you to fuck me.”

 

Carlton’s eyes widened as the realization of the situation hit him. “Wait, what?”

 

“Please. Fuck. Me.”

 

“Yeah, yeah… definitely got that.” Carlton replied. “Did you just say you love me?”

 

Henry nodded slowly, his smile spreading. “Yeah. I did.”

 

“You mean it? Not just because you’re getting off?” He pushed up onto his knees, looking down at Henry with a confused expression. “Don’t lie to me.”

 

“Why would I lie? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, not just… you know…”

 

“Before you come?” His lips quirked into a near smile.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Roll over.” Lassiter ordered, reaching to the bedside table for lube.

 

Henry didn’t ask questions, if he was gonna do it; he should just go through with it. No regrets, he was only opening himself up to someone who may not exactly be the ideal choice. Literally. Clearing his head, he relaxed on all fours – not surprised to feel Carlton’s hands quick to task, splitting him open and stroking on the cool lube. He felt himself pushing back against the almost clinical precision of his touch, the tip of one finger pushing easily inside. “Ooh…”

 

“Relax, Henry.” Carlton spoke with confidence as though he’d become some sort of expert on the subject in just five months. “Tell me if you want me to slow down or stop.”

 

Henry nodded, the barely noticeable fingertip quite suddenly turning to two thick fingers pushing in all the way to the palm without pause before working him hard and fast. “God.” He grunted, lowering his head. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, it wasn’t horrible… but part of him couldn’t help being aware that he was being touched – fucked – in the ass. He was still uncomfortable with Carlton looking at him, seeing every scar, wrinkle and blemish… to see that particular area up close and personal was a bit overwhelming.

 

Carlton pushed him against the pillows with his rough fingering, smiling wider with each muffled groan. It was a surrender power, and he knew it. Henry’s way of showing faith that Carlton wouldn’t hurt him. He had to be gentle, yet clearly in control.

 

“Please…” Henry groaned; parting his thighs wider. “Carlton.”

 

“Tell me what you want, Papa Bear.” He purred, curling his fingers as his stretching thrusts slowed to a stop.

 

That was just mean. “Fuck me.” He demanded; rewarded with the sudden hard thrust of Carlton’s cock inside him. “Oh God!” He moaned against the pillows. He hadn’t expected that at all; it hurt a bit, but it sort of like when you catch the heat off a grill too soon for meat and know that it hurts like a bitch, but it’ll be over as soon as your hand adjusts to the temperature. And it was, the pain quickly fading into an amazing sensation of fullness and gentle friction.

 

Carlton shuddered hard, his fingers digging into Henry’s hips as he forced himself to go slow. Trying to focus himself, he reached around and grasped Henry’s length – stroking with each gentle thrust. “Good?” He groaned.

 

Henry nodded, his hips shaking as he was driven harder. “Not… bad.” He managed between soft moans; “You like?”

 

The dizzying throb of his body said he probably didn’t have to respond. “Close.” Carlton panted, fingers working faster of Henry’s cock. “Come on…” He moaned, picking up the speed of his thrusts subconsciously.

 

Henry pushed up slightly, everything going just a little bit blurry as his body gave in to the urge. “Uh-huh.” He moaned loudly, grinding back against his lover.

 

Carlton tipped quickly, allowing himself to pound hard and fast as Henry’s come slicked his hand. Mewling low in his throat, he let out a strangled moan; “Fuck… fuck… God… fuck…” His thrusts slowed, halting deep as he came.

 

Moments later, pressed side by side and coming back to their senses; Henry grinned. “As good as you expected?”

 

Carlton chuckled under his breath, pressing a kiss to Henry’s shoulder. “Better because it was with you.”

 

His cheeks warmed and Henry turned on his side, curling himself around his partner belly to belly. “Then it was worth it.” And he meant it; a bit of physical discomfort was a tiny price to pay to break an emotional barrier.

 

Carlton closed his eyes and nodded against him; pressing another kiss to his lips. “You know you didn’t have to do that.” He broke away, letting his forehead rest against Henry’s. “It didn’t change how I feel about you.”

 

“I know.” Henry replied quietly. “I wanted to.”

 

“And what you said before?”

 

“I still love you, Carlton.” His voice was firm, honest. “And it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it yet. I think we should keep doing whatever this is.”

 

Carlton’s arm rested across Henry’s waist, his fingers stroking over the soft skin of his back. After a long moment, he nodded. “We’re doing this whole… boyfriend… thing, aren’t we?” He asked, sounding almost defeated.

 

“As long as you never call it that again.” Henry smirked, “I’d love to.”

 

***

 

Sunday afternoon, Carlton was called in on a double homicide – reluctantly, Henry offered to clean up and they both agreed that they’d get together again on their usual Tuesday or Wednesday. He knew all too well that dating a detective meant dealing with a detective’s schedule… he really could be called out at any time.

 

Carlton arrived on the scene, wearing the suit Henry had laid out for him while he showered. Juliet pressed a coffee into his hand – it was going to be a long night. “What have we got, O’Hara?”

 

“Initially suspected murder-suicide, but the angle’s all wrong. I’m thinking premeditated double.” Juliet replied casually, watching the M.E.’s office taking away the bodies. “Is that a new tie?”

 

“Hmm?” Carlton looked down at the soft blue silk tie. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“Good choice… it really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

 

He blinked several times, having no recollection of buying it. Unexpectedly, a soft smile crossed his lips. “It was a gift.”

 

“Oooh? A lady-friend gift?” She asked as they walked up the steps to a rather large house where the crime had occurred. “And don’t lie, women know…”

 

“Lady-friend? No.” He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at the thought of Henry’s face when he heard that one.

 

Jules let out a frustrated sigh, “I know you’re seeing someone. Two or three days a week you’re bringing leftovers for lunch – really nice looking home cooked meals for at least the last three months. My guess is she’s spending the night more frequently… getting serious. Two weeks ago, you were called to a scene and showed up wearing the same suit you wore the day before – with wrinkles in your shirt. You were staying at her place and didn’t stop to change because I was in pursuit of a suspect.”

 

“We’re at a crime scene; I think there’s more important things to do than scrutinize my love life.”

 

“So you admit that you have one?” She grinned, satisfied with her deduction. “How long have you been seeing her?”

 

“I don’t like that self-satisfied tone of your voice, O’Hara. My personal life is none of your business.”

 

“It’s totally my business. I’m your partner… remember? We’re supposed to bond.”

 

“Yeah, well… why don’t you go bond with the M.E. while I see what I can get here?” Lassiter sighed, shaking his head.

 

Before he could make it to the bedroom where the bodies had been found, he heard the familiar sound of the Spencer he didn’t particularly care to hear coming from the room. “Hey, Buzz… I thought Jules was supposed to be bringing Lassie in on this one?”

 

“She did.” Lassiter stepped into the room, watching as Shawn slurped a bright yellow smoothie – Gus hanging close to his side. “McNab. What have you got?”

 

“Not much, Detective.” Buzz licked his lips, quick to move away from the pair. “No sign of an altercation, nothing’s been disturbed.” He looked over to where Shawn was staring at Carlton, a blank expression on his face.

 

“What are you looking at, Spencer?” Carlton raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of his coffee.

 

Shawn shook his head. “Nice tie.”

 

“Not just nice, that’s an Armani.” Gus added quietly, “That’s a hundred dollar tie… I didn’t think you had such great taste.”

 

“It was a gift.” He sighed, looking back to the blood spatter to try and judge ballistics based on the short look he’d gotten as the bodies where wheeled off the scene.

 

“Both gunshot wounds to the head. Female, here…” Buzz gestured to a smaller void, “Back of the head, execution style.” He gestured to the somewhat larger void next to where the woman had been found. “Male, identified by the housekeeper who found the body as the homeowner, Mr. Arthur Johnson. Left temple.”

 

Shawn pulled Gus aside, whispering; “Dude, how’d you know that’s an Armani tie?”

 

“It’s obvious, Shawn. That subtle print is their logo – I’m pretty sure that’s from the current collection.”

 

“How do you even know that?”

 

“I take great pride in my appearance; they make an excellent silk tie that is both classic and durable. The question you should be asking is who gives Lassiter a hundred dollar silk tie?” Gus smiled, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Probably his secret girlfriend… they’ve been together at least five months.”

 

“Secret girlfriend? Why would you think he has a secret girlfriend?”

 

“Oh come on, Gus. Even you had to have picked up that one. He’s smiling… he hasn’t even pulled his gun on me in months. And at least a few times a month he smells like Icy-Hot. Someone’s getting some.”

 

“Icy-Hot?”

 

“Yeah, I’m guessing bad knees. My Dad uses it sometimes.”

 

“Hey, Spencer – why don’t you do me a favor and get the hell out of my crime scene?” Carlton had crouched down beside the large blood stains, picking up a fine gold chain with his pen. “Obviously I don’t need you here and there’s no way Vick called you before she called me.”

 

“Actually, we got the orders directly from our liaison. He called and we happened to be in the neighborhood.” Gus stepped in defensively, “We’re officially on the case.”

 

“And if you’ve got a problem with that, you can call my Daddy.” Shawn teased.

 

Carlton shook his head with no intention to step in on that one – if Henry wanted them there… well, he’d let this one go. This time. Maybe. At least until he gets in the way. Distracted, he stepped out into the hallway and called up his shoe connection.

 

“Hey, Mike… yeah, Carlton Lassiter. No, no… the wingtips are great. I’m looking for a gift. Maybe a pair of those suede bucks like I picked up a few years back.” He smiled to himself, giving a look around to make sure he hadn’t been followed before quietly adding; “For someone special.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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